Child in June
POEMS FOR SUMMER
by SARA LUDLOW HOLMES
WHEN June was a sweet street to compel
Toward chicory field and bunting’s wing,
Cool-hued by the light of day’s returning —
When grass showed green where footsteps fell
On white, wet sheen: then sun’s first spear
Loosed thin bird-voice to a great floodgate
Of acres loud with joy sprung straight
From Mother Earth. Such cheer to hear,
All nature seemed a bursting crock. All high leaf hummed, was a warming meadow,
Slow climb, up-drain of honey-yellow,
Till Brother Sun said noon by summer’s clock.
Toward chicory field and bunting’s wing,
Cool-hued by the light of day’s returning —
When grass showed green where footsteps fell
On white, wet sheen: then sun’s first spear
Loosed thin bird-voice to a great floodgate
Of acres loud with joy sprung straight
From Mother Earth. Such cheer to hear,
All nature seemed a bursting crock. All high leaf hummed, was a warming meadow,
Slow climb, up-drain of honey-yellow,
Till Brother Sun said noon by summer’s clock.